


flowers in spring

by AbeTheDadtm



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:05:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbeTheDadtm/pseuds/AbeTheDadtm
Summary: The first flower comes with the new spring. Caleb is in love with Caduceus, but can't confess it. It slowly takes over him.





	flowers in spring

The first flowers came with springtime. Caleb was sitting at breakfast, at the huge dinner table in their condo, watching Caduceus serve breakfast when something seemed to be stuck in the back of his throat. He coughed violently. Nott rushed to his side, concerned, and the others soon followed, forgetting their morning routines and cooking breakfast to watch as Caleb pulled a squashed up daffodil from his mouth.

They called this Hanahaki Disease.

It happened when someone kept in their love for someone. If left unrevealed, the flowers grew around and through the lungs, killing the person slowly.

And now, Caleb was suffering from it.

The question was who he had feelings towards.

The group deliberated over this while Caleb laid in bed, coughing up gardenias. 

“We know it’s not Beau, Nott, Yasha, or me,” said Jester as she thought about it. “So it’s either Fjord, Caduceus, or Molly.”

“Maybe it’s someone else,” said Nott. “Someone we don’t know about. He talked about a boy named Wulf a lot when he was talking about his past. Maybe it’s him.”

“I don’t know…” Caduceus thought. Then he made a realization. Caleb was looking at him when this started. Was Caleb in love with him? 

Maybe, he thought. Maybe.

But he didn’t say it. He listened to the others postulate about Caleb being in love with some strange boy they’d never met, perhaps, while Caduceus sat in thought like a teabag steeping in hot water.

Instead of questioning it, he began caring for Caleb.

At first, it was fine enough. Caleb could work, sure, though he annoyed his fellow office workers with fits of coughing and filled his trash can with piles of wilting yellow carnations. Whenever probed by concerned friends he dismissed them.

“Nein. It’s stupid. It’ll pass with time, once I move on.”

“No it won’t,” said Jester. “You know how these things go.”

He nodded, but said nothing more, as he was interrupted by another fit that produced a white chrysanthemum.

Slowly, he stopped being able to work. His breathing was too constricted, his head was too light. He stayed in bed, with Caduceus never far from his side, holding his hand.

“I know it’s me,” Caduceus said, in the quiet of the night. “You coughed up that first flower when you were looking at me. Just say it. Please. I don’t want to lose you. You’re a very good friend.”

“Exactly. I am just a friend to you. Let me just move on with this. Leave me alone.”

Caduceus obeyed, but cried himself to sleep that night. Why had that hurt him so badly?

But the time they got him to the hospital, it was too late for surgery. The flowers were too deep, too tightly entwined around the delicate sacs of his lungs. All they could do was wait for him to confess, hope for a recovery, or watch him wilt in bed.

And wilt he did.

Through the days, Caduceus tried to stay away. Caleb needed time on his own, he thought. He needed time to move on. But after a week of no recovery, he had to come in. The lack of him was driving him mad.

The hospital said no visitors, but he said it was urgent. Said he was the person who could maybe, just maybe, cure Caleb’s disease. They let him in quick. He sat by the wan Caleb’s side, held his hand tight as tears came to his eyes. He begged Caleb, please, by the Wildmother, by every damn god, please, just say it.

But halfway through his begging, Caduceus felt a tickle at his throat. 

He coughed violently, and the nurse came to his side. Then he opened his palm.

A white carnation.

Caleb cried in bed, then reached out his hand weakly, taking Caduceus’s hand in his. “You love me?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Caduceus, squeezing tight.

“I love you, too.”

Within the next month, Caleb slowly got better. Caduceus hardly left his side. By the time he was out, Caleb moved his bedroom into Caduceus’s. To celebrate the move, Caduceus got him a bouquet.

White carnations and daffodils.


End file.
